


You Are What I’m Fighting For

by irlpatchnotes



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hi i love Quentin and he deserves smooches, I think I made reader gender neautral???, M/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, hecc i’m still bad at tags, i can’t remember with my bad memory, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlpatchnotes/pseuds/irlpatchnotes
Summary: In a realm of life and death, the most important thing to take care of should be yourself. But your first priority happens to be a dreamwalker who loves you more than you could possibly know.





	You Are What I’m Fighting For

    Rain trickled down in an almost hazy mist, dampening your clothes and causing you to walk with a firm hold in your step so your foot wouldn’t stick to the mud. The weather was always the same in the Red Forest; rainy with fog and a sense of dread. But after having repeated this somewhat ritual several times over, it no longer frightened you. Instead, it filled you with a need to survive, and help your friends along the way. That’s why you had spent your time fighting off the peskiness of the killer by breaking their Hex Totem.

    Almost every killer had been “blessed” by the Entity with some sort of power that wound up stored in these Hex Totems, and you had taken it upon yourself to break them for the sake of your team. It was a strange responsibility, to clear out the abilities these killers had, but it was a very important one and one that could get you killed. Some of those totems would induce damage to the generators while others would put your friends at risk. Those were not chances you were willing to take, especially when your goal was survival in this terrifying battlefield. That wasn’t to say you could be careless with these things either, you needed patience and concentration to get rid of the tiny tower of bones.

    With a loud crack that rang through the forest arena, the skulls, sticks and lit candles fell to the earth below. You moved your feet and hands away quickly, so as not to cause harm to yourself in any way, then made a mad dash to the nearest tree in case the killer had decided to put a stop to whoever broke their totem. Moments passed, and you found yourself in the clear. _That’s one thing out of the way_ , you thought, taking a moment to see if there were any side effects. There was no feeling of dread or eyes on you, just relief. Perhaps it was the Huntress’s Lullaby, considering she was the one tracking each survivor down, but whatever it was, it was gone.

    Yet to have been on the hook, you were very aware of your surroundings in this place called the Mother’s Dwelling. Huntress had to deal with your jumping and ducking endlessly, with you barely making it out with your head still placed upon your shoulders. But oh, you knew she didn’t like you. There was something about the wickedness in her smile when she would find you that said “You’ll wish the Entity killed you this time”. That’s what made it all the more fun and challenging, though. Hiding from her and preventing her the gratification of either sacrificing you or killing you herself gave you a sense of adrenaline that couldn’t be replaced.

    The sound of your footsteps and rainwater beginning to pool into puddles brought you out of your thoughts as you pulled your muddy shoe out of the mud. No time for nonsense, the clock was ticking and it was time to scan the area for generators. With none in your field of vision, you decided to keep walking forward, only stopping to move behind a tree as you heard humming through the brush. It only lasted a moment, the sound of the Huntress’s approach, but as soon as it disappeared, you were back on the move. No time to lose with too much to gain, afterall. Pushing forward, towards the house of residence to the hare of a woman, you heard a sound that made you stop and look around.

    Rummaging. The sound of someone looking for something pulled you away from your search for generators, instead towards the idea of finding someone. Making your way closer to the side of the building, the sound got louder, but was definitely faster than anyone else you knew who raided chests. It wasn’t long until you spied a familiar beanie and jacket hunched over an open wooden crate, pulling out a medkit of rather high quality. This particular survivor could only be identified as one person: Quentin Smith.

    “Quentin,” you called, keeping your voice soft so as not to alert the enemy to your position.

    At the sound of his name, the male in question looked up, his eyes expressing their usual sleepiness alongside the surprise of seeing you below him. Peering over the side, he gave a gentle wave, holding onto his ill-gotten-gain as he hopped off the side of the building towards you. The boy landed with a solid thud, nowhere near as graceful as Nea, but still without any injuries.

    “Hey,” he greeted, yawning for a moment. “You doing okay?”

    The boy was practically the local pharmacist with his knack for finding medicine in chests, and he was always happy to help anyone who needed him. It was like he was afraid of not being useful, needing that validation to prove he was well equipped enough. Maybe it was the fact that Ace and Laurie won’t leave him alone due to his lack of clearly needed sleep, though they just wanted to make sure he was going to be alright. In his eyes, however, it just felt like they were treating him like a child.

    You nodded and smiled at him, giving him a quick look over to make sure he himself was out of harm’s way. Quentin was fine, though he seemed a little on edge about something. Suspecting it was the natural fear of impending doom, you didn’t ask, and instead changed the topic.

    “Have you seen a generator?” you asked, watching as Quentin looked around himself.

    “Uh, yeah. I’m not sure if it’s been… Repaired already or not, but there’s one over by these trees and, um…”

    Lighting up, you silently cheered and wandered closer towards Quentin, shattering his personal space.

    “Well, c’mon, then. There’s only one way to find out if that gen’s not done, and that’s by making sure it’s fixed. Lead the way!”

    Smiling back at you for a moment, the brunette nodded and motioned you to follow him. He was a trustworthy guy, willing to help anyone he came across, including you. Even if Quentin was nervous and full of too many anxieties to count, he knew what powers the Entity had blessed him with and planned on using them to his full potential. All he wanted was to be useful, besides, this was one of the ways the young teen proved himself as an ally; showing others to the generators that would get them out of the arena.

    Despite his lack of sleep and obvious inability to stay awake, Quentin’s memory always served no matter the situation, this proving no different. The generator he was referring to was found quickly amongst the darkness and fog, still unrepaired alongside sparking from being damaged moments prior. Huntress had been here, but she clearly didn’t decide to stick around long after. You motioned your tired comrade towards the machine before crouching down and trying to put the wires together the way Jake had showed you upon your arrival. The taller male with you came along shortly after, leaning forward to fix a few gears that were out of place.

    It wasn’t long until a sense of dread washed over you, causing you to pull your friend away from the generator forcefully. He let out only half a yell before you slapped your hand over his mouth and pressed your backs against a tree. For Quentin, there was no reason to be afraid of anything, as his heart rate hadn’t sped up just yet. But for you? Oh, there was plenty reason to get your friend out of the way, and it came flying right into the generator.

    A silver headed axe slammed into the side of the machine, breaking with a solid crack right where the teenage boy had previously been hunched over. The Entity was a fickle being, no doubt, but the powers it had given you definitely showed some favoritism for your fighting spirit. One of those powers was the keen sense of killers with powerful secondary abilities. Pig’s hidden crouched state, Trapper’s bear traps, Huntress’s throwing axes and even Legion’s feral frenzy would activate a sense inside you that screamed “get out of there” and you chose to listen.

    Moments passed before Huntress made her arrival, smashing her foot into the side of the generator to knock some of the wiring out of place. You could practically hear Quentin’s beating heart—his breathing kicking into high gear for a moment until that haunting melody of a lullaby faded into the darkness. Waiting just a moment longer, you peeked your head out from behind the tree before speaking.

    “She’s gone now, Quen,” you notified, hearing your partner give a sigh of relief, which had clearly been held in.

    You were tempted to snort at the sound of his relaxation, but now was no time for fun and games. There was still work to be done, work of which included powering up a certain metal box that would open the exits you needed to get out of this trial. So rather than tease Quentin, you decided to motion him out from behind the tree to resume your previous efforts of patching wires together without it blowing up in your face. Literally.

    “Y’know…”

    The sound of the dream walker’s voice caught your attention for a moment, your eyes flitting from the wires in your hand to the image of his beanie on the other side of the generator. He seemed invested in his work, eyes focused on trying to help everyone else in the trial escape but still willing to make small talk. After successfully connecting two wires together and hearing another part of the machine begin working, you were ready to hear the rest of what he wished to say.

    “You’ve got some real incredible powers from the, um… The Entity.”

    You snorted, giving a little shake of your head while pulling a gear into place.

    “My abilities are nothing special, just things that help change the tide of battle faster than other people, I guess. I mean, Laurie’s the one who’s brave enough to straight up stab the killer in the shoulder with a piece of wood.”

    Quentin chuckled and was soon blinded by the light of the generator turning on, but before you could tease him, the last gen needed went off from across the forest, thus turning on the siren that the exit gates were now ready to be opened. A sharp smile split your face and you jumped up, looking around to face your sleepyheaded friend.

    “Well! Lead the way, Quen!” You cheered, knowing the Entity had graced the sleep deprived boy with the ability to see the exit gates from anywhere in the realm.

    Pride taking over his heart, the youngster rubbed his eyes and looked around the area curiously before fixating on a particular direction and pointing. Without another word, you began walking alongside him, ready to make it out of another hellhole created by the beast that brought you to a new, grim home.

You stepped through grass, ready to get back to the warmth of the campfire when the hair on the back of your neck stood up. About to warn him, you watched metal slam into the shoulder of your friend, pushing him forward as he let out a cry in pain as blood stained his blue shirt and cheek. Eyes wide, you nearly tackled him to the ground, trying to get him out of the way of yet another axe headed his way. Moist dirt hit your face as you landed, trying to keep Quentin quiet as he whined in pain from the pieces of steel that chipped into his flesh upon impact.

He held onto his injury with worry, your own sense of concern letting itself be known. Your heart told you that you still weren’t safe, that there was a lady coming your way to make you taste iron and scream, but you couldn’t just leave your injured friend to be sacrificed. Continuing to shush him, you were determined to get both of you out of there alive somehow, but this was a moment of panic, one that took quick thinking. Taking a part of your sleeve, you shoved it into Quentin’s mouth, effectively hushing him for a moment while the Russian lady passed by.

“Quen,” you addressed him, watching as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. The sight made your heart ache with sorrow, knowing it was your fault you hadn’t warned him fast enough. “Quen, give me your medkit, I’ll patch you up, okay?”

Setting down the medkit, Quentin crouched over so you could begin patching up the wound Huntress had inflicted him with. Pain ran through his skin and ripped flesh as you used an alcohol rag to clean the wound, making him want to cry out in a familiar but horrible sense of discomfort. You tried your best to soothe him with gentle words of support, but you were familiar with the sensation of medicinal alcohol being practically poured into an open wound. It stung like being scorched with fire, a pain that would last even as the wound was healing.

It didn’t take long for you to finish bandaging the wounded boy, but he seemed out of it, like the wound had some kind of impact on him. Scanning him curiously, you pulled him towards the side of a tree, looking at him worriedly as he himself tried to figure out what was wrong.

“I’m… Even more tired than usual,” Quentin stated, moving one hand to hold his head. “Like I, I feel like I just ran a marathon, I’m so… I’m just out of energy.”

Putting the pieces together quickly, you looked towards the pieces of the broken throwing hatchet the Huntress had used. Sure enough, there was a strange substance sticking to the head of the axe, one that coated it with a sort of shimmering gleam. The killers were a crafty bunch, using whatever they could get their hands on in order to improve their skills and murder the survivors in their trials. This was no different, and whatever concoction the Huntress made to cover her axes had inflicted Quentin with a form of exhaustion.

“Don’t worry,” you assured, helping him to his feet while looking away quickly to make sure you weren’t being stalked by a bloodthirsty rabbit. “I’m right here, and you recover from these things faster naturally, right? That’s what the Entity gave you, that ability to heal and help others heal. You’ll be okay, just take a quick nap. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A nod left your friend as he sat back down, still too tired to move away from his current position. Jake and Bill would have to wait for you two to get to the exit gates later, assuming they weren’t being chased by Huntress for being successful in their generator repairs. You took a seat beside him, scanning the area to make sure she wasn’t lurking nearby with her horrible song of impending doom. Quentin closed his eyes, ready to take a micro nap as you watched over him, knowing you would keep him safe no matter what.

Just as the sleep deprived boy nodded off, you heard the sound of footsteps and immediately stood up, turning to make sure it wasn’t the lady killer in question. What you got instead was Bill, the gruff old man seeming satisfied to see the two of you were alright. You gave him a smile, while he made his way over, crouching in front of the still form of the sleepiest survivor, tilting his head. Remaining quiet, you waited for the soldier of a man to speak to you first, which didn’t take long.

“What happened to the kid,” he asked, leaning forward just a bit more to place his hand under Quentin’s nose. An action made to make sure he was still breathing and hadn’t been murdered by Huntress herself.

“Exhaustion,” Bill nodded, glancing over at you for a moment. “Huntress hit him with an axe, and I didn’t warn him in time. He just needed a nap, he’ll be okay.”

The elderly man repeated his previous action, leaning back to sit beside you. “You’re always looking over this tired ol’ sack of rocks. Always makin’ sure he’s gonna be able to make it out alive. Just how many times have you ended up on these here hooks to protect this numbskull?”

William was a very smart old timer, knowing everything that happened in and outside of the campfire circle—nothing got past him, for better or worse. Your story with Quentin was one of the things he took close note of, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head every time you ended up screaming because you took a hit for a boy who could barely keep his eyes open. That’s not to say he was rude about it, of course. Bill was simply concerned, like a father who watched his daughter fall into relationships he knew she couldn’t handle. It’s one of the reasons you respected him.

But he was right; you were constantly putting yourself in danger for the sake of protecting Quentin and saving him from certain death. You kneeled in front of hooks, slammed down pallets in killers’ faces, and you even called the Hillbilly a “douche-nozzle” just to get him to chase you instead of the dream walker. And yes, of course you knew it was dangerous, but you couldn’t stop yourself from rushing out there to save him when you knew that danger clawed at his back.

There was just something about the boy that made you feel happy, something that you had to protect no matter what. Ever since day one of your arrival, the curly haired boy was there to make you smile, from flower crowns to late night storytelling—he was the one who made you love life even on the darkest days when you just wanted to go home. You wanted to protect him, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for him. Quentin was your happiness, your sense of joy and the cause of a newfound warmth in your heart that appeared whenever he smiled at you.

You remembered how it started, the day—or night, rather—you had officially fallen for Quentin Smith. After a long day, trial after trial and an ache in your shoulder from having hooks put through it, all you wanted was to lay down, to rest knowing the Entity had put you into too many of its “games” to put you back into another one. But just as you were about to hit the hay and catch some sleep in your tent, there was a voice. _His_ voice.

“Hey, are… Are you awake?” The sleepy boy had asked, clearly uncomfortable, or at the least, not used to talking with people so formally in the Entity’s realm.

Responding with unzipping your tent, you peeked out from the fabric to see him staring down at you with one hand holding onto his arm. There was a silence between you two before you realized he wanted to come into your tent, a request that you accepted by zipping down the rest of the entrance and motioning him inside. Considering he was quite the lanky fellow, it took him a minute to get inside, but once he was in your tent, he seemed a lot more relieved.

When you asked him what he was doing, Quentin suddenly seemed uncomfortable once again. Although he knew it was impolite to keep secrets from you, especially after you had accepted him into your place of rest.

“I, um… I had a nightmare,” he started, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “I had a nightmare that, uh, you got hurt. So I came to check on you… Make sure that you’re alright and everything.”

That action, that night where he was so scared for your safety that he had to make sure you were safe, made your heart swell with love and happiness. It had felt like so long since you had been treated with such care, such respect. The boy who could barely keep himself focused in a life-or-death case scenario was the one who had to make sure you were safe. It spoke a thousand words to you, and you remembered how your heart fluttered afterwards, the same way it soars to the stars and back now.

“He’s become important to me, Bill,” you finally replied, giving him a nervous smile as you shrugged, then looked back at the boy in question to brush curled brown hair from his resting face. “I want to look after him no matter what, even if that means I end up dangling from a hook.”

The elderly man clicked his tongue, and your gaze drifted over to him for a moment. He was looking at you sternly, as if he knew something you didn’t, a look you returned with one of confusion. You were no mind reader, the look on your face asking him “What’s that look for?” without you even having to say it.

“Y’got feelings for the kid, don’tcha.”

With one question, Bill had your face going red; the following words that left your mouth not even close to coherent. Not only was it sudden, but even though you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t bring yourself to say so. Quentin was your light in all this darkness, and the fatherly-figure of a man knew what your heart was telling you without even trying. It made you nervous, confused and the slightest bit upset, although you couldn’t tell at what. You knew Bill didn’t need an answer, as he already had it, but you still couldn’t just tell him he was right.

Thankfully, the sound of yawning brought you out of your moment with William, and instead to the image of a teenager rubbing his eyes before stretching his arms to the sky. Pale eyelids opened to reveal brown eyes, ones that were still red within the whites as the boy woke up from his nap. The bearded man beside you let out a grunt at the boy’s awakening, watching as he huddled closer to himself while registering what was going on. It didn’t take long, and by the time Quentin remembered the circumstances of his situation, Bill was picking himself up to get going.

“Good to see you’re still alive, kid,” Bill greeted, watching as you and Quentin followed his lead in standing. “I’m going to clean a few o’ them totems before headin’ out. I’m sure Park’s already got one of them gates open and is waiting for us, so hurry on up once you’re done here.”

“Yes, sir…” The boy was still shrugging off the bits of his remaining languidness, but was able to comprehend sentences at least.

With one last look towards you, the man left, his boots leaving imprints in the wet earth; a reminder of his previous presence. Another yawn caught your attention as Quentin waddled towards you, seeming no longer affected by the Huntress’s blade. Instead he was just held in his own little dreamworld, like usual. You smiled at him and leaned over to pat his head, an action he accepted with a gentle hum of acknowledgement. Who knew such a sleepy gremlin of a boy could catch your heart, keeping it to himself?

“Are you ready to go,” you asked, watching as Quentin nodded with an attempt to fix his beanie, despite the point of it being that it was supposed to slip off his head in a way. You just chuckled, pulling him along for a moment before he started trekking towards the nearest exit gate.

It didn’t take long for you to find, considering you had a boy who could see the aura of the gates from miles away, but you enjoyed the walk nonetheless. Assuming that Jake and Bill had already taken their leave, it shouldn’t be too hard to escape the Huntress’s clutches this time. No, this time you could go back to the campfire with your sleepy boy safe and sound, ready to fall back asleep by the fire like he always did.

Locating the exit was the easy part, but opening it was not. Jake had apparently only opened one of the gates in the time you had taken to find it, and the darkened lights above the latch showed that no one had been there earlier to begin the process of opening it. You took a moment to look around, breathing in the cool air while listening for the hum of a familiar woman to determine her current location, but you couldn’t sense anything at all. It was almost time to be home free, and the boy you travelled with had taken it upon himself to open the gate.

With nothing to do, you looked around, spotting a totem that Bill had missed—one that still needed cleaning. Quick to notify your partner, you tapped him on the shoulder, watching as he looked over at you.

“Quen,” you called, “I’m gonna go cleanse that totem, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, turning back to the latch as you walked away from him slowly. There was no need to be worried, as long as Quentin was nearby, you would be there to help him in case of a Russian rabbit lady.

Bending down, you tilted your head and examined the particular totem, curious as to how Bill missed it on his way out, seeing as the man was very thorough when it came to his work in the trials. Reaching your hand forward to the back of the totem, you cleared some remaining moss off a stick, only to stop as your ears rang with a scream. Turning away from your work, your eyes went wide as you saw the Huntress pulling Quentin away from the latch, picking him up onto her shoulder.

That was when a fire inside you activated, one that the Entity bestowed in you. With no time to spare, you grabbed a fallen tree branch and took off running, not caring about the exhaustion it would cause you later. The boy you swore to protect was wiggling in her grasp, only a few feet away from the painful iron of an old, rusted hook covered in the blood of matches prior. Fear laced his eyes and adrenaline kept him awake, trying to struggle and kick himself free.

Your feet hit the floor fast, leaving mud flying into the air as you rushed right up to the woman who thought she would please the Entity, keeping the large stick tight in your hand. Eyes filled with determination and rage, you began to gain on her, watching your friend try to flee or at least buy himself some time by making the Huntress stumble into objects in the field. But he knew his fate was fast upon him, as he could practically hear the smile in Anna’s voice as she hummed her haunted lullaby.

Suddenly, your voice cracked through the fog and rain, calling out, “Hey, Huntress!” at the top of your lungs. Turning to face you for just a moment, you jumped up and the stick in your hand collided with the side of her face, hitting her hard. Losing her grip to instead cover her face, the woman dropped Quentin to the ground, who gave a grunt before taking off into a sprint. No time to spare, you kept the stick in your hand and followed after the fellow survivor, back towards the exit gate.

Pulling down the lever quickly, you listened to the blaring sound of the exit giving you its signal to freedom. The boy at your side continuously looked over his shoulder, knowing that his survival wouldn’t last long if the doors didn’t open fast enough. As the doors pulled open, you grabbed the dream walker’s sleeve and yanked him down to the ground, a hatchet flying over your heads, hitting a wall before you sprinted into the exit. Relief washed over Quentin before you spoke up, his eyes searching you in concern.

“You saved me,” he mumbled, touching the bandages around his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, you need to go, Quen,” you told him, watching as he looked at you in confusion. “I’m gonna go for the hatch, and if you don’t get going, I won’t be the last survivor. It won’t open.”

It was so painfully obvious that your friend didn’t like this idea, apparent by the look in his eyes and the way he shook his head so fast that hair fell out of his beanie and into his face.

“Are you crazy? Just come with me! The exit’s right there, and Huntress’ll kill you if she gets her hands on you! This way’s safer!”

The disant tune of a lullaby filled your ears for a moment, and you smiled back at Quentin. It was sweet of him to think about you in this situation, but for you, _his_ safety was top priority. You cared about him, wanted to make sure that he could escape this trial safe and sound, but that was exactly what he wanted for you. Just the fact that he wanted you to come home with him made you smile, although you knew that even if you tried to make it out of this right now, Huntress wouldn’t let you escape so easily. This was something you started, so you had to end it.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you assured, looking at the brunette with a sense of confidence. “I know where the hatch is, I ran past it earlier. Don’t worry, she won’t get me, I know how to get out just fine.”

Obviously still unconvinced, Quentin gave a look that read “Please, just come with me”. He wanted to make sure you were safe, and this was a way that he could confirm it personally. But you were stubborn, and didn’t want him to have to worry like this. So rather than listen to his request to go with him, you simply pushed him towards the exit gate, and out of the way of another axe that went flying in his direction. With no time to call out for you, the Entity took him back to the sanctuary of the bonfire, while you simply watched.

Heart rate increasing, you turned on your heel and sprinted out of the exit gate, knowing Huntress was on her way to come get you. Throwing hatchets flew past your face, barely skimming your hair as you found a clearing of trees alongside the hatch. But you didn’t jump just yet. Anna was too close—there was a hundred percent chance she would pull you out of freedom if you tried to escape just now. So instead, you turned to face your rival, who was looking at you through the eyes of a bloodstained paper mask in the shape of a malicious white rabbit.

Looking at the hare of a woman didn’t make you afraid, however. Even the wicked grin calling for death that she wore couldn’t bring you. any sense of dread. No, instead you two just stared back at one another, waiting for one of you to make a move. This wasn’t the first time you had this little standoff, and it wouldn’t be the last, considering how badly you loved messing with the Huntress. She planned on keeping her eyes on you this time.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you take Quentin,” you said, watching as she didn’t respond. “You see, he’s very important to me, and I’d rather die than let you put him on a hook. So I had to hit you with that branch to make you drop him.”

With an unreadable face, you couldn’t tell if the woman even knew what you were saying to her. The thought of her being unable to speak English made you concerned for a moment, but you knew not everyone’s native tongue was English. Nea spoke Swedish from time to time, and Adam knew enough Japanese to write as well as hold a conversation. But you continued on anyway, just in case she could understand you.

“You see, it’s my own little trick from the Entity. Kinda like Laurie’s little stabby trick, but with a bit more pizazz, yknow?”

They say actions speak louder than words. Holding a stick behind your back, you not-so-subtly moved it within the Huntress’s line of sight, causing her to make a swing at you so as not to get hit with a branch again. Before the attack could cause too much damage, you jumped through the hatch, only feeling the slightest twinge of pain as the Entity picked you up. Ready to go back home, you closed your eyes and prepared yourself for a flash of heat, breaking apart before coming back to reality,

 

    “Oh! You’re back!”

    With a rush of energy unlike him, Quentin made his way towards you while looking you up and down as if you had changed in some way. Even though you had just returned, you couldn’t help but smile at seeing the boy run towards you, putting your hands on your hips with a certain confidence that reassured everyone but him. Jake and Bill had returned earlier and were currently in conversation with Dwight and Laurie, while Meg, Kate and Nea smiled at your return from the Entity’s touch.

    “Did you make it to the hatch?” Quentin asked. “You said you were going to make it, you said that you, you knew where the hatch was, so she didn’t get you, right?”

    Snorting softly, you nodded and looked up at the taller male with a curious look. “You’re not doubting me, are you? There’s no way that silly little Huntress could even try to hook the likes of me. I’m too good for that!”

    Tilting his head, the dreamwalker moved closer towards you, checking you very carefully for any sign of injury. Sure enough, with his keen eye, he spotted one: a cut around your wrist that hadn’t been there when he saw you last. It was enough for him to pull you away from the group at the bonfire, into the backwoods so he could take care of the wound. You yelped and tried to signal the other survivors of your situation, but the only one who tried to assist was Nea, who was pulled back to the campsite by Bill after a short moment.

    After a short trek, the tired boy sat you down underneath a tree and searched his jacket for something. He found it before you could speak, pulling out an alcohol wipe and a roll of bandages. You decided not to question why he had them on his person while he reached for your arm, which you instinctively pulled back.

    “Hey,” he whined, looking up at you with an exhausted glaze over his eyes. “I know you got yourself hurt, so come here and let me help you, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

    You retorted quickly, holding your wrist with your free hand. “It’s not that big of an issue, Quentin, it’s just a little scratch. I’ll heal over in the morning, you don’t need to worry yourself over it.”

    Though, you already knew he had made up his mind from the moment he pulled you from the ever growing group. After everything you would do to help him, now he had the chance to return the favor to you. Even if it was the smallest scratch the two of you could imagine, he wanted to be the one to get rid of it. Now was his chance to fix things, make right one of the small wrongs he had made over his time here, and he was determined to get through to you and clean up this cut.

    “[Name]... I want to help you,” Quentin stated, looking at you before peering at the items in his hand. “You’re so kind to me, and you, you never let me return the favor. You just say ‘don’t mention it!’ and then run off to go do something else, but I want to help you too! So… C’mon, let me just take care of this little cut as a start.”

    From there, you didn’t have the heart to deny him, and you extended your hand towards his chest. Very carefully rolling up your sleeve, he applied the alcohol to the open wound, causing an upset hiss to leave through your grit teeth. Quentin muttered what seemed like a thousand apologies as he continued to clean the wound, only to stop when he wrapped it up in bandages to make sure it didn’t get infected.

    Looking up from your hand, the boy could feel his words catch in his throat at the simple expression on your face. A very gentle smile, one that showed love and thankfulness in your eyes appeared across your face, making his heart do flips. His jaw slacked slightly and he had to pull his free hand to his mouth to hide his growing blush across his pale face. There’s no way this was fair for him; the love he yearned for was gnawing at him from the inside, begging for some kind of release. Not to mention, the fact that he was incredibly touch-starved didn’t help the matter one bit.

    “Thanks, Quentin,” you mumbled, looking away from your newly patched up hand to find the male in question avoiding eye contact. The expression just made you snort, rubbing your nose with your index finger.

    “Wh-Whatcha laughin’ at?” Quentin’s face showed clearly how nervous he was about the possibility of being teased, but you shook your head to relieve him from his nerves.

    “You,” you replied, watching him tilt his head. “You’re just, you’re super silly, did you know that?”

    With his blush creeping down towards his neck, the tired lad used his free hand to tug at his beanie, as if it would protect him from the upcoming anxiety and embarrassment that rushed through his veins. There was a familiar tightening sensation in his stomach, one that left a strange heat to run through him freely. It made him bite his lip in an attempt to ignore it, while you just kept laughing and smiling at his nervous reaction. _This isn’t fair…_ Quentin thought, moving his hand from his hat to hold around his waist.

    You looked up at him for a moment, leaning close to him before resting your head against his shoulder. There was a clear feeling of him tensing up at the contact, but you couldn’t hear his erratic heartbeat bang against his chest like a prisoner yearning for freedom. His teeth bit into the corner of his lip as a method of distracting himself, but it didn’t help how you snaked your arms around him to make yourself comfortable.

    Nervously, he found himself able to sputter out a “[N-Name]?” before you actually looked up at him with a response.

    “I’m sorry,” you muttered, grinning up at him for a moment, then looking back at the fabric of his jacket. “There’s just… Something about you that reminds me of home. I always feel so safe around you, Quen. And I know that’s probably stupid sounding, but there’s something about you that makes it hard for me to leave your side. Moments like this, with you and me, are just nice. I’m probably making you really uncomfortable, huh? It’s just… I need to be with you sometimes.”

    That was the final straw for Quentin Smith, who couldn’t control his feelings after hearing what you had to say. It was at that moment that he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, full of warmth and loving that had been locked up inside him for so long. Feeling you move your hand, the boy slowly placed his larger palm over yours, lacing the fingers together to so he could feel even closer to you.

    Quentin knew that there was no way you could feel the same about him, but for now, he didn’t care. If this was the only time he could kiss you, he was going to enjoy it and let it play back in his mind a thousand times before he ever got over it. The warmth, the heat that scorched his heart and head with the image of you was now a blazing flame that consumed him. Leaning forward into you, he pressed your back against a tree, very gentle noises leaving his mouth as he finally satisfied his need for you, your attention, your love.

    Pulling away, he could only correlate the haze in his head to dizziness with a hint of loneliness. There was no way he could face you now, now that he had given into his desires and practically pounced you for his own gain. Silence filled the air, only broken by the sound of rustling leaves overhead. _I blew it_ , he thought to himself. _I didn’t even tell her how I feel, I just—I messed it all up like an idiot_.

    “Quen?”

    The sound of the nickname you gave him was now a jabbing pain to hear from your voice, which was laced with what he interpreted as disgust. Peeking up over his hung head, he noticed the change in color on your face, specifically the sudden pink that speckled over your cheeks. Regret was hitting him over the head with a frying pan.

    “L-Listen,” he tried to start, “I’m sorry, I just, I’ve been, I mean—”

    “Quentin.”

    He wasn’t listening. “I’m _sorry_ , please don’t be mad, I didn’t—”

    Sputtering turned to silence as Quentin was reunited with a familiar feeling, though it was one he had only just been introduced to. Eyes widening and his movements stilling, he looked down to notice that the connection between your lips and his own had returned. Only this time, it was better.

    Placing a hand against his chest, you eased the panic-ridden boy into an experience he wouldn’t soon forget. Quickly remembering to breathe through his nose, Quentin found you guiding him into a kiss that had his heart going a million miles a minute. Hands shaking, he placed them at your hips, as if trying to steady himself and just relax. A not-so-subtle whine left him as you pulled back for just a second, his own lips chasing after yours in an attempt for more. This feeling was incredible, it made him feel addicted to a happiness he had never known he was allowed to have ever since Freddy Krueger started haunting his life.

    A hand made its way to his curly brown hair underneath his beanie, which was discarded into the grass moments later. The noises he had made prior returned to the scene, showing how happy and needy the poor boy was. It was practically him begging for attention, to be loved and cared for just like this. There was no doubt about how badly he enjoyed this moment, from his lovesick smile to the way his hands clenched and unclenched when he was trying to register if this was all a dream. Knowing his past, every inch of his being prayed for this one moment of happiness to be reality.

    The only time he knew for sure that he wasn’t dreaming was when you broke the kiss and started paying attention to his apparently sensitive neck. There was one sound that left him, one that sounded surprised but not in a negative manner. Not to mention the subtle tilt of his chin upwards, trying to give you more room to please him. Soft hums and an obvious blush showed his enjoyment, but not all good things can last forever. Soon, the cold wind of the forest brushed past and he noticed you had moved away from him, while he fully opened his eyes and his face turned red with realization.

    While he covered his mouth with his sleeve and you laughed happily, Quentin knew that finally he had been granted something he needed in his life. The smile on his face wouldn’t go away, no matter how badly he wanted it to. He knew he must’ve looked ridiculous, with a blush that stretched across his face to his ears and neck, hair a mess and shirt collar tugged at, but something made him proud of the experience he just had. The only wish he could make in that situation was the hope that you didn’t leave any marks along his neck, or else David would never let him hear the end of wanting to know what happened.

    “Quentin,” the sound of your voice brought him back to life, and you watched as he snapped his attention to you. “You like me, right?”

    Without taking a moment for his heart and mind to agree on his answer, his heart made him blurt out an answer.

    “I’m in love with you,” he said, instinctively tensing and holding his hands together as if ready to apologize. But, with a newfound confidence, he simply continued. “You… You’re smart and brave, and really, really pretty. But, I, um, I don’t just like you cause you’re pretty! You’ve got this aura about you that, wh-whenever I see you or I’m around you, my heart just _aches_ and I can’t breathe properly… You’re so caring and I want to be the person that makes you happy! I want to be with you, and be the one to treat you right after the trials, I want to… To love you.”

    The nervous youngster watched you smile at him before moving to take his hands in yours and look up at him so longingly, feeling a childish sense of love blossom in his chest where his lost hope had once resided.

    “I love you too, Quentin,” you replied, watching as his smile returned and he pulled you into a tight embrace of which you returned.

    Quentin knew he didn’t deserve the love and attention he was going to get from this relationship, but he also didn’t care. Knowing that you would be there for him after his victories and his losses to kiss him good morning and be there when he fell asleep was more than he could ever ask for.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeey gamers,,, i love Quentin smith a lot and so i made this lmao


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